Page 7 of Beautiful Deception
Junnie’s taste in men changes faster than she changes her seasonal closet. Once she sets a goal, she’s going to do it—and this year’s goal is to make a list of defining qualities for one hundred men she meets. I don’t get it, but it’s not in my place to say anything.
I just wonder how she has so much social energy when I get exhausted interacting with people at a dinner.
“But my gut is not feeling it,” she jokes, popping the tension in her shoulder. “He’s giving the villain vibes.”
“You’d sound more convincing if you weren’t gawking at him.” I accompany her into the dining room, where most of the guests have chosen their seats.
Junnie slams her hand onto my shoulder and forces me to sit in front of Remo, who hasn’t taken his attention off the butler and two maids standing off to the side.
“Room for one more?” the host's son asks from the doorway.
What was his name again? Joe, Jose, Josh Morgon?
“This is a private party, Joe,” the man sitting at the end sparks.
He appears to be the oldest of the group. He has gelled dirty blond hair, a dangling cartilage earring, and a fraternity ring on his thumb. His face reddening from anger is what I assume; some people in the wealthy circle tend to be condescending to those who are considered beneath them.
Joe sheepishly scratches the back of his head and laughs off the other man’s aggressive demeanor. He steps aside and motions the uninvited guest to join our lunch.
My neck cracks as I whip my head to the side when I catch a glimpse of gold-rimmed glasses. Maybe I was outside for too long, and it froze my brain. There is no way he’s here, in the middle of nowhere, for the next seven days.
Doesn’t he have patients to see?
“I’m sorry for intruding,” Dr. Kian apologizes with the ensnaring baritone breathing discomfort down my spine.
“My car broke down, and I had no other options. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Even if he was, there was no way anyone would come out and say it. Common courtesy and pride won’t let them be seen in a bad light, so everyone swallows their opinions and adorns a welcoming smile.
All except the man sitting at the end. His face turns as dark as the storm raging outside.
There is a total of seven people, not counting the butler and two maids. Me, Junnie, Remo, Dr. Kian, Joe Morgon, the angry man, and a quiet woman who hasn’t introduced herself yet. She has her eyes glued to her swift knitting patterns, so it’ll take a while to get her name.
“Is this seat taken?” Dr. Kian points to the chair next to mine.
I shake my head and shift my weight to appear less anxious. I’ve never seen him outside of his workplace, so seeing him in casual attire is weird.
While I do my best to ignore Remo’s eyes from drilling holes into the side of my head, I whisper to Dr. Kian as low as possible.
“What are you doing out here?”
He smiles kindly at Remo as a silent greeting before turning his attention to me. “I was with a patient.”
My confusion must be obvious, so he patiently explains the layout of the area and how it hides the view of a hospital care facility for less urgent psychiatric patients. He couldn’t see much of the road when he left and thought he could make it home by driving slowly, but the car gave up, forcing him to find the nearest shelter.
Joe claps his hands to get everyone’s attention after asking the butler to bring out lunch.
“My dad said there were supposed to be fifteen people invited, but the others couldn’t make it!” Joe mentions with an elated laugh. “More food for us!”
Our food is served immediately by the staff, and Joe suggests that everyone participate in an icebreaker. He chirps about how it’s the only way he meets new people at school because everyone is required to talk. Nobody volunteers or accepts his suggestion, but he begins anyway while the rest of us eat.
Junnie, being kindhearted and likely feeling pity for the young man, starts to introduce herself and pull mine into hers as well. I give her a heartfelt bat of my lashes and receive her infamously coy smile.
Remo and the woman who knitted only said their names. Kimberly. The man at the end says his name is Peter, and he is the co-owner of a Fortune 500 company, leading him to be listed as a wealthy bachelor in magazines.
Kimberly, the knitting lady. Peter, the angry man and oldest. Joe, the host’s son and the youngest in the group. The household staff don’t have names on their name tags, only their job titles.
I think I have everyone’s names and faces memorized.